Nevica
by AncientBooer
Summary: After a series of premonitions Michael decides to return to Miami, but will he return in time to stop them coming true? Starts after chapter 96.
1. Chapter 1

Michael looked up to see the final rays of sunlight skimming over the tips of the mountains that surrounded the valley. It was the end of another beautiful summer day. His feet scuffed across the dry mud as he made his way back to his little cottage from feeding the horses one last time before hitting the hay himself. He had stayed with them a while, comforted by the subdued light and soft shushing as they pulled and snuffed at their supper. There was so much he loved about life on the ranch, but now it was hard to not feel out of place. All of his old memories crowded and vied for attention in his head. He was a detective from Miami. What the hell was he doing here?

He tried to forget and remember he was different now. He was a cowboy in Montana. But how much he tried, even there he couldn't suppress his memories of her. That night, in his deepest sleep his dream returned again.

It was winter, and the forests surrounding the ranch danced with shards of light which glanced off the snow, making the world seem almost black and white. He heard her voice, her laugh flickering fractally through the trees and tried to follow it, tried not to lose it. It rose behind him, and as he turned, a door appeared. Their door, the door to their apartment. It was old now, and covered with white flowers in full bloom, gardenias, glistening against the snow. He glanced down and noticed he was dressed in a blue shirt and khaki pants, and was clutching _that_ sappy lunchbox. He let out a ragged breath and smiled. Turning his eyes back to the door, he knew the moment, he knew that day. The door was beckoning him back, to open it. Would she be standing behind it, as if she had just told him to hurry up and go? Could he just go back through the door and undo it all, these five years? If so, he would take Jane in his arms and kiss her until hours and days meant nothing anymore.

The door flung open but as always the hallway was empty. At this point, he would normally wake up with a yell and a cold sweat. This time however, he pressed on, calling out for her, Jane! Jane... Jane! He found her lying on floor, in a pool of blood. He ran to her but red roses sprang up from the floorboards and quickly enveloped her, until a mass of red blooms covered her body and face. A voice called behind him again, but this time he turned to find Rose, her gun once more pointed at his chest. She held a young boy at her side, struggling to get free. "You can't save them. You're just a shell of the old Michael." He heard the click of the mechanism as she pulled the trigger.

Bolt upright in bed, Michael stared across the little room gasping for breath as Bo, startled awake, found him and rested his head on the side of the bed, looking up at him. He placed his hand on Bo's head, calming himself, but a feeling in the pit of his stomach still remained. What if Rose was still plotting? Jane and Mateo could still be in danger. Somehow, life had put him back on the other side of that door, and he had to make it count. He had to go back to Miami.


	2. Chapter 2

Jane gasped for breath as her vision clawed its way out of her nightmare into the early-morning light of her and Rafael's bedroom. Jumping from the bed in surprise, Faith M. Whiskers now stared up at her from the bedside. "Are you okay?", Rafael mumbled from the edges of his sleep. "Was it a nightmare again?" Jane shook her head as Faith tilted her head inquisitively and let out a meow. Jane pulled herself out of bed. "It's nothing. The cat's hungry. I'll go feed her."

Having been served breakfast, Faith was soon purring around her feet as Jane poured some coffee and shuffled over to the couch. It was too early to be awake, but the nightmares kept returning. Awake was better. She looked down at her pile of books on the coffee table. Now her book was finished, she had relished the idea of more time to read and had rewarded herself with a stack of them. She pulled a book from under the now messy pile and heard a clunk. She looked down; a small black box had been knocked into the floor. She picked it up and opened it: a gold tie tack with a setting of black onyx sat inside. She shuddered a little, cold from the lack of sleep.

Rafael emerged from the bedroom and leaned against the doorframe. "Is this yours?" Jane questioned while holding up the tie tack. "I found it under my pile of books."

"Oh, I was wondering where that went," Rafael replied, scratching his messy head of hair. "Luisa came around here asking for it and knowing her I thought it would be better if we gave it to the police. It slipped my mind when it got lost. I should take it there today."

Jane offered to go instead. She was at a loose end waiting for comments from her agent. Of course there was the wedding planning... and she had been doing almost all of that now Rafael was back at the hotel, but right now she had no enthusiasm for it. And she couldn't deny the dreams were getting to her. It was hard to forget his face. She hoped one nostalgic journey to the police station would lay it all to rest.


	3. Chapter 3

Michael threw the paper bag containing his lunch onto the passenger seat of the car. His first week back had felt like a hazy déja vu, but a good one. He grabbed the steering wheel and freaked out a little. Today was the day of his physical. Although he had little to worry about – outdoor labour had made his heart and body strong – he couldn't bear a re-run of five years ago.

Bo sat in the back of the car eyeing up Michael's lunch. He was not sure how he had convinced them, maybe out of pity or maybe old times, but they had allowed Bo to accompany him during his duties. So some things were new.

* * *

After dropping Mateo off at school Jane threw her bag into the car and once seated, checked she had the small box with her. Although she could never tell Rafael, she still sometimes thought of Michael. Months had gone past since they said goodbye. How was he in Montana? She hoped he was alright. Recently, the nightmares worried her even more; she never wanted to watch him being shot again.

She arrived at the police station and with a smile she peered around a slightly ajar office door at Dennis and knocked lightly. His jaw dropped open when he saw her, and after a second he scrambled to his feet. "Oh Hey Jane! What's up? What are you doing here?" Jane thought he hadn't looked so embarrassed to see her since the time they went on a date.

At that instant a familiar and triumphant face appeared in the doorway with his arms spread wide. "I just passed my...!"

All of the words left Michael's body, because she was here, standing in front of him. Months had gone by, and he had imagined her face too often. He froze. Dennis made a small shrug and apologetic face as a stunned silence gripped the room. Finally, Michael managed to blurt, "Jane, you shouldn't be here. It's not safe."

"I can be where I want." she retorted angrily. "Actually, why are _you_ here? Why didn't you tell me you were back?"

"I didn't want to interfere. It didn't go well the last time."

"But here you are, anyway."

Michael's demeanor tightened. He didn't want to argue with her. He hadn't wanted Jane to find out he was back in Miami. Instead, he wanted to solve the case in the background, without it touching her life. He didn't want to involve her, Mateo, or any of the Villanuevas. Even Rafael. It was safer that way. He took a different tack, "That's not fair. I grew up here. My whole life was here before I, well, died. My career..."

Jane and Mateo too, but he couldn't say that.

He continued, "I don't want to get in the way of you and Rafael. That's why I didn't tell you. Jane, I just want you to be happy..." his voice caught as Jane nervously touched her neck, flashing the diamond on her ring ringer.

Jane softened a little, "You're right. Sorry. You can live wherever you want."

By this time, Dennis had awkwardly left the room, leaving them standing there together, alone. Michael, nervous himself, pushed his hands onto his pockets and rocked back on his heels. "Okay, so what can we help you with?" Jane pulled out the small black box from her bag and handed it to Michael, their hands brushing. "Luisa came around looking for this. It used to belong to her father. As you know, she's still involved with Rose, so Rafael thought it would be better to pass it on to you."

Michael inspected the tie tack. "We'll look at it and tell you as soon as we have any leads." Looking back up, their eyes met for a moment. Jane gave a half smile and began to turn towards the door as Michael stopped her, "Jane... I know you, you will want to tell Rafael that I'm back. But really, what good will it do? Dennis can contact you for everything. You don't need to see me again."

"You do know me," she mused, suppressing a smile. "But I'll have to tell him." After a short silence, she turned to go, but as she walked out of the station she couldn't stop furrowing her brow.


	4. Chapter 4

"WHAT?! He's back?!" Rafael pushed his chair back and stood up, as the veins also stood up on his temples. "I don't want him anywhere near us! He's always put this family in danger, Jane."

Jane sheepishly looked up across the dinner table at Rafael. "It's fine. He promised not to."

Rafael eyes narrowed. "I thought you'd finished with him. Why is he back? Is he trying to win you back again?"

"No, no. I think he just wanted to come back to his old job."

"Do you really believe that?!" Rafael chided.

That whole evening, and the following week, Jane walked on eggshells. She did everything to convince Rafael that she didn't care Michael was back, and that he wasn't interested either, he just wanted to be a detective again. Rafael responded by going into one of his funks. She noticed the contents of the bottle of whisky in the cupboard slowly draining away. But who was she really trying to convince?


	5. Chapter 5

Jane wondered what the hell she was doing. Perhaps her dreams had brought her here. Overcome with a bout of nostalgia, she was sitting in her car across the road from their old apartment, staring at the door. In her hand she clasped Michael's love letter, which had lay dormant under the floorboards for years. Was she going insane? She sat dripping in her raincoat and started to re-read the letter. It was raining outside and the windows were steaming up.

There was a sudden tap on the misty window. She wound it down.

" 'Scuse me Miss, you've made an illegal U-turn. May I have your license and ID please? " Jane couldn't help but giggle a little as she recognised who it was. Michael stood grinning back outside the car window, hand on his hip looking fake-disapprovingly over his sunglasses, slowly getting drenched in the rain. "Sorry I didn't bring any soup this time, though."

Jane managed to repress her smile a little and quickly pushed the letter into the pocket of her raincoat. They stood and sat there for an instant, wondering who was going to ask first why either of them were there. It was strange to see Michael in his old detective clothes. If she didn't look hard, she might have mistaken him for the Michael of five years ago, but there were subtle differences. His face was more tanned, his hair slightly longer, his frame stronger, his voice softened by a drawl. As the rain soaked into his shirt and started to stick to his body, Jane realised she was being rude. "Do you want to get in?"

He opened the door and sat down. "So... I guess I should go first. I'm not going to make any excuses, you can probably guess why I was here. I saw your car, and I thought of not coming over, but that felt weird. I can go if you want?"

"It's okay, you can stay. How's the police work going?"

He shot her an unbelieving glance. "Do you really want to know?" Jane nodded, "Yeah, actually. What happened to the tie tack?"

"You know, weirdly enough it was just a tie tack. There wasn't anything weird about it, or anything hidden in it. But then, that actually made it weird."

"Huh. Well, I guess maybe Luisa did just want the tack? Did you find anything else?"

"Well, I got creative. Remember that whole Princess Bride thing? I started searching through bank accounts and anything a criminal would need with names associated with the film."

"You mean the book?"

Michael shot her one of his wry smiles, tipping his head towards her, "Yes, of course. The book! So I found something under the name Tyrone Rugen. You know, Count Tyrone Rugen, the guy who does all the torturing in the Princess Bride, has six fingers?"

Jane searched his eyes for a second when he mentioned torture. God, did he remember all of that now? His brow furrowed momentarily, but he pushed on: "Rose is getting too foolhardy with her pop culture references. There's a storage facility over in Kendall, which opened with a fingerprint. We managed to bypass that and get it open, but there was nothing inside. However, we did find residue from what seems to have been a large amount of money."

Jane's eyes widened. "What do you think she is planning with that?"

"Good question. But Jane, I've told you way too much already. You asked, so I've said what's going on, but please don't breathe a word of it to anyone. And please don't put yourself in harm's way. I'd never forgive myself."

They both looked up towards their old apartment door. "You never told me why _you_ came here." he said, catching her gaze.

"I... I've been having these dreams. Well, nightmares. Like the ones I had after you were shot." She watched his face as it filled with recognition and alarm. "Michael, so much has happened in five years. Everything that happened to you, to us, was so surreal. Sometimes I think part of me convinced myself it didn't happen, just so I could survive. I spent so long telling myself it was over, making myself forget. So now my head is full of these dreams, I have to undo it. I have to convince myself it actually happened or I'm going to go mad. That's why I came here. I needed to see something solid, like bricks and mortar, to remind myself that we existed, that once we were real."

Taken aback by her honesty, he was emboldened to ask more. "I saw you were reading something. Were they notes for your book? How's the writing going?"

"Actually, I've finished my novel. Well, almost. This is something else." She took out the now crumpled letter from her pocket and handed it to him.

"You found it?! But I hid that in that under that loose floorboard... along with my spy decoder ring. Did you find that, by the way? Could really be useful right now."

Jane chuckled at his goofy joke, but then quietened. "Do you believe in destiny?" she suddenly demanded.

"I meant every word I said in that letter."

She looked down at her fidgeting hands. "I thought you'd say it was sappy."

"I wouldn't change a single moment we had, however silly or sappy. It was perfect Jane."

Jane was still looking at her hands, and started playing with the gold diamond ring on her finger. She looked up to find Michael desperately searching her face, worried he had already lost her. "You're engaged now, I see."

"Yes. The wedding is in three weeks."

Michael nodded slowly and reached for the door handle, opening it slightly. The rain outside had stopped. "It's so great you've finished your new book. I wondered, now you've finished it, could I read it?"

"Of course! I'll email it to you. But my agent says there's an issue with the ending. I'm still thinking about how to fix it."

"Thanks! I'm sure you'll work out how. I'll take the ending with a pinch of salt." Michael smiled, and lifted himself to get out of the car but instinctively Jane grabbed his hand. His fresh blue eyes looked back at her, glimmering with emotion. Letting go of the door, he pressed her hand in his, and released it. "Remember Jane, no detective work. Stay safe."


	6. Chapter 6

In the dim halo which surrounded them illuminated by Mateo's night light, Jane lay beside her son with his current favourite book. Her heart poured with pride as she listened to him make each word spring to life off the page. One at a time he brought each animal in their story to life, which huddled attentively around them as they read.

She closed the book, kissing Mateo's head, and sent the animals back into the jungle. "Time to go to sleep." Mateo shuffled down under his covers and she put out the light and gingerly edged the bedroom door closed.

Outside, Rafael was standing in the kitchen, whisky glass in hand. Jane approached and implored him again, "Rafael, I just want to help. Please, let's talk about this." He scarcely looked up. Distrust and hate was painted across his eyes and furrowed brow. At length, he barely whispered, "Why did you see him again?" Jane stood holding her palms out to him. "I told you, we just bumped into each another." He scoffed and glared at her, "Then... why then did you say his name in your sleep last night?" She looked up directly into his eyes, with her features transfixed in shock. "What?!... Rafael, I... I can't control what happens in my dreams."

Rafael set down his glass and took a step closer. "But that's what's going on in your head Jane, in your heart."

"No...no!"

"I think you should leave."

Jane's body crumpled a little, but she fought to stand up. "No, please, not again. What about Mateo?"

"Mateo will be fine. You can see him in a few days. Leave, now." He pointed to the ring on her left hand. "And you won't be needing that anymore."


	7. Chapter 7

With her bag packed, Jane approached the dimly lit kitchen. Rafael's muscular body was hunched over the counter. Leaning on his elbows, his head faced away, resting on the back of his joined hands. He felt her presence, but could not respond. He could only close his eyes and whisper, "Just go."

Jane edged toward him. "I wish it didn't always come to this. This jealousy. You're making this into something it's not."

Rafael suddenly rose and turned his resentful eyes toward her, his palms slamming into the counter. "Just go Jane!"

She pulled the ring off of her finger, placing it down carefully in front of him, and turned toward the door.

At that instant a urgent knock thudded against it. Caught up in their conflict, they took an instant to fully register the interruption. From the other side came a determined voice, "Jane! Open the door, Jane! It's important. It's Rose."

"You've got to be kidding me! It's him?!" Rafael drew himself back and rolled his eyes as Jane rushed to open it.

Michael fell breathlessly through the open door. "Rose escaped... just an hour ago." He rested his hands on his hips, gasping a little.

Jane's eyes widened, "What?! But how?"

Michael quickly reeled off all he knew: "They were transporting her to a higher-security facility after she killed another inmate, but the police truck was ambushed by a group of women. We thought we'd caught her again, but it was just one of her hired women in a mask... I came over straight away to check you were alright."

The shape of Rafael's mouth twisted at one corner. "As you can see, we're fine. Or at least we were before you showed up."

A scuffling sound from Mateo's room caught their attention. Jane rushed to the door and flung it open. The boy who she had kissed goodnight was gone, replaced only by the cold night air. The window gaped open and the curtains pulled through the frame, pointing toward the place he'd been taken. "MATEO!" Her scream pierced the night as she ran to the window, "She's taken him! Mateo!"

Michael and Rafael had followed Jane into Mateo's vacant room and to the window. Peering out, Michael glimpsed a shadow that flickered through the greenery encircling the house. "She's still out there!" He turned on his heels and ran toward the front door. Jane and Rafael followed behind.

As they reached the front gate, they saw the dark figure flee down the street, across the road toward a car parked on the other side. They sprinted toward it. Someone inside flung the car door open so the figure could enter, but instead it turned back, still clutching Mateo, and lifted a gun in the direction of its desperate pursuers. Skidding to a halt, Michael reached to draw his side arm, but in that second a shot rang out.

He felt his back scrape along the asphalt: Jane had knocked them both onto the ground behind a car, shielding them from the shooter. Rafael ducked down too, still watching hopelessly as they bundled a drugged Mateo into the car, which spun into gear and skidded away down the empty street.

Michael looked up at Jane, his face inches from hers. "Are you okay?", he asked softly. She had heard the car speed away – all she could do was burst into tears.


	8. Chapter 8

The sound of the jet engines warming up shrieked through the night. At that moment, a car pulled up in front of the plane and a pair of high heels stepped out. Behind her, Billy and a tall man carrying a six-year-old sized bundle emerged. Over the engine noise Rose shouted, "How long until we reach Florence?" Billy glanced at his watch. "Ten hours. We should be there by early afternoon tomorrow."

They sat down in the plush leather seats of the jet. "How long is the kid out for?", she demanded. Billy smirked, "Don't worry, the girls will make sure he's out for the duration."

Rose's eyes darted toward a mirror-image woman with red hair who appeared from behind a separating curtain. "Did you set up the meet? Did they agree to our terms?"

The doppelganger folded her arms, leaning on the partition. "Yeah, the Ruvelles will be there tomorrow night, with the money."

"Also, how the hell didn't any of you know Cordero was back on the case?" The rest of them wordlessly exchanged glances, shifting uncomfortably.

"Have you decided what you will do with the other child?" Billy asked, eventually trying to change the conversation. Rose's features darkened as she turned to stare out of the window as they took off.

"It's always good to have collateral."


	9. Chapter 9

Michael drew his hands through his hair as he sat as his desk. "We've got to be missing something." It was now the early hours of the morning.

Dennis frowned. "You sure you didn't see the plates?"

Michael picked up his pen and twisted it nervously in his hand. "No, Rose is too smart for that. They were blacked out... I can't believe we lost them!" Throwing his pen onto the desk, Michael stood up and paced around the room. Dennis pursed his lips, thinking. "Rose must have used that money for her escape."

"Right, probably the masks would have cost something. But there would have been a lot left over too. What would she need the money for?"

Earlier that night, Michael had taken Jane and Rafael over to Xo and Ro's house, calling a protective detail to cover it as well as one for 1312 Mockingbird Terrace. When they arrived, Rogelio answered the door in his lavender pyjamas, with an expression of mixed concern and amazement. "Michael... are you real? Am I dreaming?"

"Yes, I'm real." Michael confirmed as Jane fell into Rogelio's arms. "Mateo... he's been kidnapped!"

He had left them all huddled together in the light and warmth which was the Villanueva family. Even in dark times it shone so brightly. Before he left, he felt it glance off him at angles, remembering when he was once part of it. He wanted to hold Jane so much, to find Mateo, to set it all right again somehow.

"Michael! You alright?" Dennis inquired with raised eyebrows as Michael snapped out of his daze. Dennis continued, "Isn't it weird that our eyes on Luisa didn't turn up anything? You'd expect that Rose might have taken her with them, but she's still in town."

Michael agreed, "Yes...we should bring her in for questioning."


	10. Chapter 10

Jane lay on her old bed at her abuela's feeling empty to her core. Seven days had passed. She remembered how the first day she had worried about whether that statistic that if you don't find your child within the first twenty-four hours you'd probably never find them was true. She had then spent the morning researching this, which sent her into a deeper despair. Now a week later, there was nothing left to feel. She tried to hold her mind back from countless images of what could have happened to him.

At first they had hoped that Rose would get in touch with demands, but that never came. They had searched his bedroom for any clue, but nothing. The night it happened, through her wails she had given Michael photos and described in detail the pyjamas with stars on them Mateo was wearing. Michael had sat beside her as she sobbed, staring down at his notepad and the floor. He couldn't look her in the face. When they were done he raised his head, and his eyes grasped her with a haunted look, "I'm so sorry Jane. I'm... we're going to do all we can to find him."

"It's not your fault, Michael," she had assured him, repressing her sobs. But she could see from Rafael's face that he did not agree. Rafael reiterated this to her once Michael left: "Jane, we had no problems with Rose until Michael showed up. Can't you see that this all because of him?"

In the periphery of her consciousness, she heard her phone ring. It was Michael. She grasped at it, pressing it desperately to her ear. "Did you find him?!"

There was a pause. "No, not yet Jane, but we do have a lead. Luisa still hasn't revealed anything to us, she's playing innocent, but we checked the mail at her apartment. A postcard came today of a painting called 'The birth of Venus', have you heard of it?"

All Jane could muster was, "Uh... yes." She wondered where this was going.

Michael continued, "All the card said was 'She ain't got nothing on you.' Definitely sounds like Rose. I looked it up – the painting is in the Uffizi Gallery in Florence."

Jane sat up, "So you think that they're in Italy?"

"Yes. It explains the large amount of money they took from the storage facility. We've found the company that they used to charter the flight, under the name Sarah Williams. So..."

"I'm coming to Italy with you."

"Are you sure that's a good idea?"

Although the past week had almost broken her, and her voice was trembling now, Jane was determined as ever. "You didn't stop me coming with you last time, and it's the same now."


	11. Chapter 11

Jane lifted her head out of a deep sleep and off the uncomfortable curve of fuselage to find the light of Michael's laptop illuminating his chiselled face. "Any leads?" she whispered, still groggy.

Michael looked up, "I'm actually reading your book... It's really good", he smiled. "Did you decide on how to change the ending yet?"

"Uh... Michael, I've been a little preoccupied recently." She said, rubbing her eyes.

Michael decisively shut the laptop and turned in his seat to face her, "I was thinking... So, the book is filled with plot twists out of telenovelas, right? Artificial insemination, evil twins, crime lords, kidnappings, amnesia, people coming back from the dead..."

Jane blinked at him, "Yes?"

"What if there's more we haven't thought of? You could put that in. Is there one that's not currently in the book?"

Jane twisted her head round toward him, confused but intrigued. "Let me think. Well,

a common one is that the main couple in the show might actually be siblings."

Michael pulled a face. "Okay, well... let's hope not! Any others?"

Jane bit her lip and thought, "They're all in there. I can't think of any more really. Oh! There's always a baby swap."

They held each other's gaze for a moment. Jane pulled herself upright, now fully awake. "But you don't just mean in the book, right? Do you mean Rafael?" But as she said this, her eyes widened. In an instant she was transported back six years earlier: The pleasant but intoxicating smell of her baby's hair lingering against the sterility of the hospital. The little bundle of warmth against her body. She had given him away so easily, so willingly.

Michael too was frozen. He saw Nadine again in shadows of the chapel that night. He had given her the brooch and she had returned a baby boy.

They were thinking the same. Mateo.

Jane's eyes darted to-and-fro, caught in the possible lie of the last six years. All at once the weight of losing not only one child, but two, bore down on her. "I... I have to tell Rafael!"

Their commotion caused the people in the next row to fuss. Michael gripped her shoulders and whispered, "Jane, it's just a theory for now. And we still need to know where to look."

Jane raised her head to meet his gaze, her eyes shimmering. It came to her. "Oh! Rafael's parents, _they're_ from Italy. Do you think there's a connection?"

"What? I didn't know that. Did he find out who they were?" Michael was still holding her shoulders as they whispered conspiratorially in the back row of the plane.

Jane shook her head. "No. We thought we found his Mom but she turned out to be just a nurse at the hospital he was born. What was her name... Camilla, Camilla Ama-something."


	12. Chapter 12

"Only one bed?! Seriously?! You couldn't write this. My life is a big cosmic joke." Jane flung her bags into the floor of their tiny room and dropped onto the bed. Michael stood a few feet from her with this carryall still over his shoulder, one hip jutting slightly to the side. "It's fine. I'll just sleep on the floor."

Jane looked down at the floorboards of their room and over to the tiny chair in the corner and rolled her eyes, "That's not gonna work. Look, it's fine." She waved her hands, "We'll just leave a gap."

Michael set his bag down nervously. "Uh... So do you want a shower? I might take one, but you can go first if you want."

The flight had been delayed and it was late. She was too tired to do anything but sleep. Yet as Michael took his shower she could only lay on the bed stiffly, staring up at the ceiling. Was Mateo out there somewhere in this city? She walked to the window and looked out. The lights of the city danced on the river outside.

The shower shut off and after a pause the door opened a sliver. "Jane, uh... are there any towels out there?" She glanced over to the bed. She had pushed them aside when she lay down, and now a rumple of fluff lay there where there used to be two swans.

She grabbed one and approached the outreached dripping hand that had emerged from the door, "Here you go." He opened the door further to collect it and she glimpsed a flank of skin. A strange thrill coursed through her body. She knew his like the back of her hand. She thought it was gone, lifeless, in the ground for so long, but instead here it was, breathing, alive a few feet from her. Through the chink in the door, she watched as it turned, still covered in droplets of water that ran down his back.

Later, they both lay turned away, huddled to each edge of the bed, almost four feet apart. The sound of the city drifted in through the window as they both lay there, sleepless.

"Hey Jane, are you still awake?"

"Yes."

"I never thanked you before, Jane. You saved my life that night."

"It's okay. Go to sleep," was all she whispered back. But she wanted to tell him she'd do it all over again in a heartbeat.


	13. Chapter 13

As they slept, the distance between them gradually evaporated and Michael woke later that night to find a head haloed by a sprawl of dark mahogany hair laid on his chest. Her breathing softly rose and fell with his. For a second he didn't know where he was in time, except that he recognised a familiar feeling of completeness. Half awake, he asked himself whether he should move but in the drawn-out hazy minutes of his internal debate he fell back to sleep.

**Paragraph redacted abuela-style due to policy.**

From his sleep, Michael called her name as she woke. What was happening? Jane found that they were kissing, urgently but tenderly, Michael's arms wrapped around her body. Slowly, she drew herself up out of their dream and gently shook him, "Michael? Michael, wake up."

"Huh, oh! Oh god I'm sorry Jane." He sat up, pulling himself away, covering himself. "Were we sleeping?"

"Yeah, um... I guess we were."

Jane's phone sprang to life on the side table. It was Rafael. Her face crumpled a little. Always wearing her heart on her sleeve, she worried whether she could hide what had just happened from him. Rafael had refused to come with them to Italy, convinced that Mateo was still in Miami. It had also been hard to persuade him to do the DNA test. She hit answer and placed it to her ear.

"Jane, we managed to find one of your and Mateo's hairs. They fast-tracked the DNA tests, we... we just got them back." His voice faltered at the other end of the line.

Jane didn't know how to respond. All she could manage was a stifled, "Okay".

"They found that... they found that you're not his mother."

Jane collapsed back onto the bed, letting her phone slither among the sheets. Michael placed his hand on her shoulder. "Wait! Jane are you still there?" a voice called out from the phone. Michael picked it up. "Rafael, it's Michael." There was an angry pause on the other end. "There's something else. Although Mateo is not related to Jane, he _is_ related to me."

Michael lent forward, "Wow, okay. Really? How do you mean? Are you still his father?"

"No... they say it's more likely he's my nephew."


	14. Chapter 14

Jane and Michael set out early to avoid the heat that rose sharply toward midday. They paced along the narrow streets on their way to meet Camilla Amalberti; she had agreed to meet them at a café in town. Pulling open the door for Jane, Michael slipped inside after her. They chose a table in the corner of the room and ordered falteringly, trying not to smirk at each other's mispronunciations. Jane stole a glance in his direction, and wondered if he too felt that this was some sort of weird honeymoon. The one they never got. He could always put her at ease, even now, but her face at intervals would become despondent, remembering Mateo and the boy she'd met only once before.

There was a carousel turning outside in the square and tourists walking by with gelato. Glancing around the café, Michael noticed that the engagement ring on Jane's finger had disappeared. His mind flicked back to that morning. Now he thought about it, those five whole years he had known something more essential than his memory had been missing. His soul had felt a loss he had no name for, but here she was, sat across the table from him. Except they had also lost Mateo, and another Mateo without a name. He desperately hoped that Camilla could provide a lead.

A tall woman with graying hair and kind eyes appeared in front of their table. "You must be Jane," she offered, smiling and reaching out her hand. Michael was taken aback by her resemblance to Rafael. Whatever she had told them before about only being the go-between for the hospital and the convent, he didn't buy it. She knew more. He noticed she was uncomfortable, her eyes constantly darting around the room and across the square.

"We're looking for my son Mateo," Jane pleaded as she pushed a photo in front of her. Her face was set with determination as she held back the tears.

Camilla held out her palms. "I'm sorry, I don't know him, or how I can help."

"But you do know Rafael Solano, the boy's father." Michael pressed. "You look so much like him. Please, anything could help us find this boy. With your help we could find him before it's too late." At that moment Jane looked away, but he had to carry on, "Are you sure you are not related to Rafael Solano in any way?"

The woman looked across at Jane with such pity that something broke inside of her, "They paid and pressured me to keep quiet, but I cannot anymore! Not if they have harmed his son. Because he is my grandson! I am Rafael's mother."

Startled by her confession, Jane and Michael both unconsciously leant toward the woman. "You are?!" Jane gasped.

Camilla shied away, as if under their spotlight. "I'm sorry I did not tell you sooner."

Michael gaze became intense. "So do you know where we can find Mateo? Do you know who Rafael's father is?"

Still staring down at her purse in her lap, Rafael's mother hesitantly offered, "I don't know where he is, but I can tell you about Rafael's father. Antonio Ruvelle. He is a businessman from a rich family here. We were not married at the time, but they told me I had to give the baby to them. They said they would take care of him. I had no choice. They have such power here." Jane saw the old scars of this loss deep in the woman's eyes, and found an empathy she was not prepared for.

Michael's mind was racing faster than he could keep up with, "Do the names Derek and Clara Ruvelle mean anything to you?"

"Yes, they were the Ruvelle's other children, but they are both dead now. However, Derek had a son, about your son's age." Camilla turned back to Jane, pointing at the photograph.

Jane reached out and put her hand on Camilla's arm, "Do you know his name, the boy?"

"I found out once it was Luca I think. They live in a mansion up on the south side of the valley above the city." She pursed her full lips, glancing across the square again. "Did anyone follow you here?"

Michael mind was still reeling from the revelations, piecing it all together. Rafael was Rose's half-brother? Mateo was their nephew? His eyes finally managed to focus on Camilla again, "Uh.. no, no we were careful to check. Will you be safe? Maybe you should go to the police."

She told them that was not wise, set a small piece of paper in front of them and quickly left.


	15. Chapter 15

It was 2:43am and everything was calm. Only a soft snore came from Michael sleeping propped up by an elbow next to her, and the shushing of the wind outside buffeting the car. Jane peered out of the windscreen, into the dark. Of course it was a breezy night, what better way to set the scene? She felt like she hadn't breathed out since this all began. A tight bundle of worry had lodged itself in the depths of her chest, keeping her awake although her body had no right to be.

Was this all a waste of time, a rabbit hole? The ornate gates of the address Camilla had given them stood ominously still, burning a pattern in her vision. This was just some ridiculous tale they had spun themselves into. Nothing really happened in this sleepy edge of the city, and those were just a normal, if not quite large, pair of gates to a normal house.

And at that the gates began to move, and announced a Mercedes which slipped out into the night. Jane leaned over and pushed Michael a little harder than she meant to, "Michael, Michael! Something's happening."

Trying to regain his composure, Michael grasped the keys in the ignition, but then waited an instant. They would need to hold back so they weren't conspicuous. He felt the blood drain out of his face as he watched the car flit away down the narrow empty street. He had to judge the right amount of distance, he couldn't lose them. Out of the corner of his eye he could feel Jane's fear pleading him to go. Finally, he turned the key and began their careful pursuit.

The ride seemed to continue, winding forever. They didn't say a word for miles as Michael drove, hunched a little forward peering toward the Mercedes and its path. At length Jane broke the silence, "I wished they had believed us. This is crazy."

"I know. I don't like it either. I don't have a gun, we don't have backup," Michael responded, his eyes dark with concentration.

"I don't blame them though. Our story is so crazy." Jane quietened as the car in front turned right.

Our story. Michael held those words to his heart. He thought he had been written out of it. Was it still theirs? He lightened a little and mused, "Yeah, maybe we shouldn't have tried to explain all the details to them. It probably sounds even crazier in translation. At least they said they had gotten the message about Rose from the Miami PD." At that moment he glanced into the rear-view mirror. Were they being followed?

The Mercedes ahead slowed and pulled into a parking lot. They were in the middle of an industrial park. The rusting machinery towered around one solitary van, sat waiting and illuminated by a pool of moonlight. Michael turned off the car lights and drove it into the shadows as the Mercedes joined the van. There was nothing behind them now, he must have imagined it.

The door of the Mercedes opened and a proud figure in a suit exited, with a tight grip on a young boy who was trying to extract his hand from theirs. In the man's other hand was a briefcase. Jane leaned her palms anxiously on the dashboard. "Luca..." she whispered. Her hand was reaching for the door as Michael grasped her arm. "You can't Jane. They have guns. We have nothing."

"But what if this is my last chance, our only chance Michael?!"

The door to the van slid open in reply, and a tall stilettoed woman dragged out a stubborn bundle. Jane couldn't help herself. She flung the door open and started running. Horrified, Michael raced after her.

"Mateo!" Jane plunged headlong into the scene. Disconcerted by Jane's appearance, the criminals exchanged glances for a second. The bundle under Rose's arm squirmed and mumbled loudly. Bobby, who was perched on the seat behind Rose suggested, "Should we just shoot her?"

Michael reached them and instantly slotted himself in front of Jane. Glaring at Rose and Bobby he asserted, "Don't touch her."

"Chi diavolo siete voi?!" The older man who grasped Luca's hand demanded and then repeated when they looked at him blankly, "Who the hell are you?"

The corner of Rose's mouth curled as she turned to Jane. "No, don't shoot her. Where's the fun in that? But we will shoot someone. Jane, choose, which one?" she smirked, pulling out her gun and flicking it between her bundle and the boy straining against the man's hand. "Mateo or Luca?"

Mr Ruvelle stepped forward. "Hey, Clara, we had a deal. I want my grandchild back, not this, this monello!" The boy responded by pulling against his hand once more and reeling off a string of insults in Italian. Finally turning to Jane and Michael, the boy gasped, "Help me!"

"Let him go!" Michael shouted, starting toward Luca.

A shot rang out, echoing against the machinery that framed the scene. In that second Rose leveled her gun at Antonio Ruvelle's head, "I said come alone!" and pulled the trigger.

The dark was instantly full of shots exploding in their ears. Jane flung herself towards Mateo as Michael pulled Luca to the ground.


	16. Chapter 16

The world rang. Jane's face was pressed to the ground. She found herself intermingled with Mateo's blanket, patterned with animals and transported here from a world away. She craned her head upwards past a pair of navy pants, white belt and holster, and blue shirt with epaulettes to a gun and a stern face.

The face softened. "Oh, it's you again. Are you alright?". With a lilt of Italian the police woman lowered her gun. Jane didn't respond. She rummaged through the blanket until she found its contents.

"Mommy!" From the folds Mateo's arms extended towards Jane. He was alive! Thank God he was alive! Jane held him to her, shying his head away from the scene. Michael was sprawled across the cement, his arm around Luca. Jane searched their bodies for wounds. Old memories flickered across her vision.

But Michael lifted his head and looked around, and then pulled himself and Luca up. Kneeling before Luca, and holding his shoulders Michael looked into the countenance of a boy who had been missing for six years. "Luca... are you ok?" Luca answered with a bashful nod.

"So wait, you are this boy's mother?" The police woman questioned, pointing her finger alternatively between Jane and Mateo.

"Yes... I was... I am. It's all exactly like we told you," Jane confirmed. Even in the dark she could feel the disbelief of the police officer as she stood over them.

Once they had shepherded the children into police van, Michael surveyed the remnants of the night as the Italian police picked over the scene. How had they survived? Bobby, Rose, Antonio Ruvelle, and another body lay spread over the moonlit asphalt. The driver of the van had been escorted into the back of a police car which had driven away. Here was the end of Rose, in the parking lot of an unknown place on the edge of a city half way across the world.

But, wait. Really? Rose had just shot her father without flinching, without a word of goodbye. That wasn't her. She was way too much of a drama queen. He quickly leant over to one of the officers. "That woman with the red hair," Michael pointed to one of the heaps on the ground. "You need to check if she's wearing a mask."

"A what?!"

"A mask. They open at the back of the neck. Check there."

The police officer frowned at Michael but nodded her head to her colleague to approach the body, who walked over and took out a flashlight, peering at the back of the woman's neck. Pulling at the openings of the mask, Rose's face fell away, leaving an unknown woman in its place.


	17. Chapter 17

Later that night, Jane sat in a small waiting room at the police station with Mateo tucked sleeping under her arm. The other one bloodied and discarded, a rough but warm blue police-issue blanket covered their shoulders. Michael sat across from them, his elbows resting on his knees looking down at the espresso cup in his hands. He lifted his head and smiled at Jane, and looked tenderly at Mateo clung against her. "Are you okay? Is he okay?" Michael whispered.

"Yes," Jane affirmed with an amused smile breaking across her face. "You've already asked that like ten times."

"I just can't quite believe it."

"Yeah..." Jane agreed. It could have all gone so much worse. Michael was still wearing the scuffed and dirty clothing from that night's exchange. She tried again to furtively inspect the scrape across his face but this time she didn't manage: he met her gaze.

"You know, your face is grazed." Without thinking, Jane leant forward and lifted her palm to his face, placing it on his cheek below the wound.

"It is? I hadn't noticed." He held his breath as their eyes locked. Suddenly a torrent of memories that were held back and dulled with the passage of time flooded into Jane's heart, bursting into relief. Jane expelled a breath, "Michael..."

They quickly moved apart as the door to the room clicked open and the officer from earlier appeared. Michael stood up to great her. Leaning back a little with her hands on her hips, she filled them in, "Your plan has worked. We caught them at the private airport that the driver told us about. They were tricked by the mask."

"Really? That's great!" Michael said in a whisper, indicating the sleeping Mateo.

The officer nodded and lowered her voice, "However... it was not Rose. It was another woman, again. But we are talking to her now. Well... more the other way. She talks too much! I do not understand it all, but I think most if it is about, well, sex." the officer confided.

Jane and Michael shot each other a look. "I need to see her, now!" demanded Michael.


	18. Chapter 18

The slot in the cell door slid open to reveal a familiar but not particularly welcome face. The prisoner jumped up toward the opening with a look of shock then a wide smile. "Michael! Long time no see! How's being alive treating you these days?" Luisa chirped from behind the door.

"What the...? How did you get here Luisa?" Michael shook his head, exasperated.

"Wouldn't you like to know?" she preened. "Let's just say Rose and I met up again. You know that kind of sex you have when you've been apart a really long time... Actually, come to think of it, maybe you would! There was this raw, sexual..."

"Okay, I've heard enough..." Michael interrupted, signalling to the officer to close the shutter.

Once they could only hear mumblings from behind the door, Michael pressed the tips of his fingers to his forehead. Shit! If this was Luisa, who the hell were they watching back in Miami? Michael's hand shot into his pocket, fumbling for his phone. The police officer standing next to him frowned. "Is anything wrong?"

"I think I know where Rose is!" Racing to find Dennis' number he finally hit call.

"Dennis, Luisa's here in Florence! She was here pretending to be Rose the whole time. You've gotta get to Luisa's apartment now!"


	19. Chapter 19

After Dennis hung up, Michael let his hand and the phone drop down to his side and sent a pensive look down the corridor.

"What was that about?" the officer beside him enquired.

Michael snapped out of his reverie. "Uh...sorry. Officer Ricky, right?"

The officer smirked. "Something like that. Assistente Francesca Ricci. Call me Francesca. So you think that Rose might be back in America?"

"Yeah... That was my partner Dennis in Miami. They are going to arrest Luisa now," Michael explained, adding air quotes around her name. "She's apparently at some kind of spiritual retreat. I guess we'll have to leave it to them."

Francesca nodded. "I guess we must." Michael's teeth clenched. He hoped they would find her. He hoped this wasn't another part of Rose's plan.

Michael tried to push those worries away for now. There were more pressing issues to deal with. "Jane and I were wondering, where is Luca? Is he okay? Could we see him?"

"Yes. He's with the social workers now." Francesca eyed Michael with a glance which was both bemused and impressed. "He's been asking for the man who saved his life."


	20. Chapter 20

Michael, Jane, and Mateo were ushered into another small room. When Luca saw them enter, he rushed to Michael, flinging his arms around him.

"Woah! Hey there." Half-winded and shocked by the impact, Michael gently peeled the boy's arms away, and kneeled to hold his shoulders in the same pose as earlier that night. The moon-tinged darkness of Luca's rescue had made it hard to discern his features, but here in the bright halogen light of the station they finally saw his face: The dark expressive eyes, the wave of his brown hair, and the line and curve of his mouth all shouted Villanueva. Michael searched Luca's face for some hint of Rafael. His jaw? The shape of his nose? Something looked familiar that he couldn't put his finger on.

"Hey Luca, I'm Michael, and this is Jane and Mateo." The boy nodded then tilted his head inquisitively. "Are you my real family?" he interrogated determinedly, the melody of his voice filled with Italian intonations. Jane swooned and knelt before him too, Mateo standing close-by holding his mother's hand. The two boys considered one another, amused by their similarities; at a distance it would be hard to tell them apart. The only distinction was that sun seemed to have caught Luca's hair, which was a shade lighter than Mateo's.

Jane couldn't help but smile and mirror his earnest gaze. "Maybe, but we are not sure. The only way to find out is to do a test. But don't worry, it won't hurt at all."

"Are you from America?" he pursued. "If I am from America too, how did I get here?"

Michael frowned. "A bad lady took you away. She also took away Mateo. As soon as we found out we came looking for you both."

She also took me away, Michael remembered, but tonight the three kidnappees had finally been reunited.


	21. Chapter 21

Jane sat perfectly still beside Mateo, waiting for the last remnants of consciousness to drop from his features. She was so happy to have him back that she could open the window and sing out into the twilight. Although exhausted, every muscle in her body rang with joy. Yet now he was asleep, she let her forehead crumple a little with worry. He had been quiet all day.

Before he had fallen asleep in their hotel bed wearing his newly-bought pyjamas (she couldn't bring herself to pack any before, it was tempting fate), Jane had assured him he could tell her anything. The six-year-old had nodded sagely and told her, "I'm just glad I'm back with you Mommy, and we can go see Daddy soon too." Biting back her tears, Jane had pulled him to her in a tight hug.

Jane had thought he was finally at the brink of sleep when Mateo, who had instead been reflecting on something with his eyes clamped shut, pulled himself back up out of the sheets. "Mommy, I've been thinking about Michael. He's actually not all that bad. He helped you save me and Luca. It's like you're Wonder Woman and he's Captain Trevor."

Jane's mouth dimpled at the corners as she let out an amused breath. "Oh really? Thank you Mr Sweetface! But you should go to sleep now. Don't worry, I'll be here."

Her phone buzzed against the dressing table as Jane scrambled silently to reach it before it woke up Mateo. It was the police station; she answered eagerly. As they relayed their information, Jane nodded slowly into the empty room until the final piece of news held her perfectly still. Seconds passed as she fought to regain her composure.

"So... so we can come pick him up tomorrow?"

Assistente Ricci's voice echoed on the other end, "Yes, tomorrow morning at ten o'clock. We will arrange the necessary paperwork for your trip home in the next few days."

"Thank you," Jane concluded as they hung up.

She stared questioningly at her phone for a good five minutes before she realised she better call Rafael.


	22. Chapter 22

It hit Jane she should also tell the news about Luca to Michael. Since it had become vacant, he was staying in the room across the way. She stepped out of her and Mateo's hotel room with her hand raised ready to knock but almost tripped over a pair of legs. "Oh, Hey! What are you doing down there?"

"Um... just hanging out." Michael was sat on the floor with the heel of one of his sneakers perched on top of the toes of the other, with his hands folded on his lap, twiddling his thumbs.

"Uh-huh," Jane eyed him up. "You were checking for villains, weren't you?"

"Maaaybe," Michael said looking up at her as innocently as he could. "They really do like lurking in corridors, you know. I just checked in the vase down there, and behind all the paintings of naked people on the wall. Nothing, so I think we're good for now."

Leaving the door to her room ajar, Jane slid down the wall to join him. "I have to tell you something... I heard back from the station about Luca's DNA test."

Michael then turned his whole body to face her. "And? You're his parents, right?"

"Well, um... partially," she revealed as Michael tried desperately to read her face. "_I _am."

"You..." Michael hung mid sentence as if his brain had encountered an error. "Wait, wait so..."

"Rafael's not Luca's father."

Michael couldn't even blink. "But... then... who?"

Jane sighed. "I rang the fertility clinic and they are looking into it now. They seemed to say that it's most likely there was only ever one sample from Rafael, the one Petra used. The other one that Luisa used must have been mislabeled."

Michael gaped at her for a good ten seconds, then looked decidedly like he was going to faint for a few seconds more, before he finally managed to produce a sentence, "So, this whole thing with Rafael and the baby... that..."

"Didn't happen?" Jane offered.

"Yeah..." he mused, "but well it did happen! It changed our lives Jane! Wow, they are a terrible clinic."

Jane's phone began vibrating in her pocket again, making her jump to answer it. Just as she was about to hit accept, she pointed to the phone and mouthed, "It's them!"

"Hello? Yes this is she. Oh okay..." There was long pause before she responded. "I see... Do you have any contact details? Uh, okay, right I understand... Bye."

Michael was still gawking at her when she hung up. "Well...?"

"They rooted around and found that the sample should have been under the name of James Ubriacco. No contact details though," Jane related, her shoulders sinking with disappointment.

"Jame–?" This time Michael did actually faint.


	23. Chapter 23

Michael awoke to find Jane half propping up and half shaking his shoulders. "Michael, are you okay?" Michael blinked hazily at her, the lids of his eyes still half closed. He mumbled under his breath, "James Ubriacco? Ha!"

"Do you know him?!" Jane demanded.

Michael regained as much of his composure as he could manage. "Have you ever seen that movie called _Look Who's Talking_? He's the guy who's John Travolta."

"What? Oh, so it's a fake name?" Jane screwed up her face, trying to imagine where this was going.

"Yeah. So... when I was younger... I needed some cash, and I had this friend in college. He told me about this study that was looking for students. They wanted samples for money... so I did one and gave a fake name."

"So... you... are... John Travolta?" Jane sounded the words slowly in her mouth as her world turned upside down.

"Yes I am John Travolta... I AM JOHN TRAVOLTA!" Michael whooped as the realisation fully took hold of him. "Jane, Luca is our son!"

In his excitement he grasped her hands in his. Jane felt her young heart leap in her chest as their years of detours melted away. Huddled in that hallway together, they were as they had always been.

Michael's face abruptly became more sombre as he looked down at her hands. "Jane," he murmured as he ran his thumb thoughtfully over her knuckles. "Your ring. It's not there anymore... I didn't know how to ask."

Their eyes met. "Rafael and I are not engaged anymore," she disclosed, "It wasn't working."

"Are you sure Jane? I don't want you to break up because of me. I just want you to..."

"...be happy?" Jane finished. "I know. But I was thinking about what the old Michael would have said. He would have fought for us."

Michael's eyes shone in the corridor lights. "I guess I found out that love means sometimes you have to fight for someone without being with them."

"Does that mean you don't want us to be together?" Jane questioned in a fearful whisper. "Don't think, just tell me Michael, do you still love me?"

Michael smiled. He knew those words. "Jane, I love you. I've always loved you. It's never too late for you and me."

He leaned in to kiss her, hesitating as their lips barely met. Silently, with their heads bowed together, they pulled closer, their lips slowly fitting into one another. Jane ran her hand through the hair at the nape of his neck as he gathered her toward him. In that moment, they held their breath, without any need for air. They were floating in a starlit night high above the city, looking down on the lights and the river, their feet only touching the ground hours later.


	24. Chapter 24

Both the Miami and Boca Raton PD's caught up with Luisa, or should we say Rose, at a spiritual retreat up north. Except it wasn't a spiritual retreat. Instead of finding a room full of yogis in kaftans, Dennis and his colleagues found a meeting of a host of crime lords from across the southern US.

Michael was jealous to find out that Dennis himself was the lucky man to slap the cuffs on Rose Solano, who was apprehended with seven other crime bosses, some from as far afield as New Mexico. Later, Luisa was also extradited back to the US, and was found guilty of kidnapping, extortion, and aiding and abetting Rose in various criminal activities.

Wearing her brand new jumpsuit, Luisa was presented to her new inmates at Lowell Correctional Institution three months later. Although a ready smile might trick you into thinking she was happy with this arrangement, the deep arch of her eyebrows told another story. God, why did Rose do this to her again and again? She'd do anything for her.

It had all started one afternoon with a knock at the door of her condo. Expecting Bobby, she was surprised when the door opened to reveal a delivery woman clutching a box. Signing the delivery slip she inquired, "I didn't order anything. Do you know where it's from? It's not donuts by any chance?", her voice touched by a slight quiver.

The delivery woman shrugged. "Sorry Ma'am, don't know about that. Can I put it down inside for you?" With that, the woman barged in through the open door, closing it behind her. Luisa stepped back incredulously as the woman put down the box and pulled off her cap, wig, and mask to reveal Rose grinning at her like a cat. "I've missed you, Babe. But we don't have long, only time for a quickie. Then you have to put on this," she instructed, holding up the mask.

Of course, Luisa couldn't resist, and that's what had gotten her here. And the fact she had been getting good at this crime lord business, or at least this stand-in crime lord business. As the water of the shower dribbled over her, she held tight onto her soap staring off into space. I guess once you kidnap your nephew there's no going back.

The shower rail flung open. "I bet you look great in orange but I have to say I prefer you like this."

"Rose?!" Luisa jumped and let the soap fling into the next cubicle. "You're here?!"

"I've missed you so much babe! Why was I trying to get out of here when the perfect solution was for you to come to me? Rose purred, easing her way in to the cubicle beside Luisa. "You're the Bonnie to my Clyde, the Piper to my Alex."

"I'm sorry about us getting caught." Luisa looked down shamefaced. With little space between them, however, her eyes couldn't help taking in her partner in crime and her expression turned to lust.

"Yeah babe, I don't think the postcard was a good idea." Rose professed, tracing a line downwards with her finger starting at Luisa's throat. "It gave too much away. We also underestimated that Detective Cordero again."

Gasping, Luisa grabbed Rose's hand for a second to confide, "Rose, I'm in here for life!"

"So am I," Rose returned as she slid into Luisa's arms. "It was meant to be. Remember, ours was the greatest love story ever told."


	25. Chapter 25

Surrounded by the warmth of the bed, Jane drifted slowly and contentedly up into consciousness. Beginning to recognise the room, panelled in wood and homely, she stretched out her arms from beneath the colourful quilt. A head of dirty blond hair and a peaceful smile was laid gently on the pillow beside her, still in a deep sleep. For a moment she held perfectly still listening to his breathing as if it was the only sound in the world.

Pulling the crocheted blanket from the top of the bed over her body, she made her way to the window. With the whole world still, the snow was carefully falling outside against the dawn sky. Childlike enthusiasm made her open the latch and hold her hand out into the silent fall of snowflakes, catching them like ephemeral jewels in her palm. Examining them, she found in miniature the shapes they had only ever cut out from paper at Christmastime, their tiny beauty overwhelming and unreal.

A pair of hands slid onto her waist. "The bed is cold without you," a voice whispered in her ear.

A smile spread across Jane's face as Michael's arms reached around her, drawing her against him. "It's snowing!" she breathed excitedly, overlapping his arms with hers. He nuzzled kisses upon her cheek and neck until she giggled softly. "It's beautiful isn't it?" he agreed, "but come back to bed, it's freezing with the window open! At least you have that blanket. Although I should tell you, all those holes don't leave much to the imagination."

"Michael!" she turned and pushed him playfully away so that he stood naked in the middle of the room grinning indecently at her. Grasping the latch and pulling the window closed, Jane stopped and looked at him. Long and agile, the lines of his body still followed the taught muscles of his abdomen, his gunshot wound still etched into his chest. Lost years ago for good, here stood her soulmate returned to her from the trauma of his final detour.

Standing there, the memories he had recovered flooded back into his brain once more, filled with all of their past stories and years of loss and longing. The woman of the stories stood a few feet away by the window, caught up in the shared gaze that drew them together. His body couldn't hide he wanted her. She let the blanket drop and walked toward him. Her body too had become leaner with age, but just as beautiful. He loved all of her bodies, from the day they met, to when she carried their child, to the night they first made love, all of the times, including now. Every curve, every mark was part of her story and he wanted all of it. She stopped in front of him for an instant, their eyes and the cold air tingling upon their bare skin.

Reaching for him, she pulled his mouth to hers in a deep breathless kiss. He slid his forearms up her back and leaned her backwards as they kissed again and again, filling her with a heady vertigo. He kissed his way across her cheek and down her neck until she moaned his name. Eventually, he raised her body forwards again so they stood upright against each other, his hands wondering down her back and finally pulling her hips toward him.

_** Redacted because of site policy, but you can find more on AO3 ;) **_

* * *

"Are you cold now?" she enquired with a sweet smile. "No, not at all," he replied huskily, grinning back. "The boys might be up soon... I promised them I'd show them how to make a snowman today. We should take a shower before they're up."

"Thank god this place has more than a bucket and a rope," Jane mused as she rolled off his chest and lay on her side with her head propped upon her palm. Michael turned his head toward her. "Yeah. Do you remember that time? God, that was hot. I remember wanting you so much Jane." He reached out to caress her cheek.

Their eyes met and held each other for some time before Jane bounced to her feet and stepped toward the bathroom, Turning back to him, she invited, "Well, now's your chance, but this time you can look all you want."


	26. Chapter 26

Jane was shaping a snowball with her gloved palms when another flew inches over her head, splatting against the wall of the cabin. She ducked her head down a few inches more to avoid the following barrage, as she and Luca added a final pair of snowballs to their giant pile of ammunition. It was them versus Mateo and Michael, and after fortifying their position behind the snowman they built earlier than morning, Mateo and Michael were closing on the bushes in which Jane and Luca were hiding. "Are you ready, Mom?" Luca questioned as they crouched there waiting for the perfect moment. Jane succinctly nodded her head at her conspirator.

"Now!" Jane yelled as they released their snowy projectiles at the advancing pair, who promptly did an about-face and ran back behind the snowman. Scooping as many snowballs into their arms as they could carry, Jane and Luca emerged from their hideout to rain a constant line of them at their foes. "We've got you now!" Luca crowed as they rounded the snowman and walloped their two opponents with their final snowy handfuls. In his surprise, Michael fell back into the snowman, catching its top half with wide eyes just as it began to topple over. The boys laughed as Michael clowned around slipping and sliding in the snow, pretending to have trouble putting it back together again. The snow was never going to get old for them.

The noiseless snowfall from this morning began again as Michael paced out a path through the snow to Jane. Did he look a little anxious? "You look worried," she observed, holding up her empty palms. "I don't have any more snowballs," she assured him. As the boys played behind them, making a life-sized copy of Bo who played the part of the patient model, Michael reached the spot where she stood.

"Oh well, you'd think after all these times I wouldn't be so nervous," Michael grinned bashfully, reaching his hand into his pocket. A thrill went through Jane's heart as she looked down at the small box that he produced. "I hope you'll forgive me. Your Mom helped me find our old engagement ring," he said, gently pulling open the box to reveal a familiar diamond set in a platinum band. "I wanted to ask you here, in the snow."

Jane looked up at him, trying to blink back tears from her eyes. "It's like your letter, Michael, it's destiny. Even finding your letter was destiny. However far apart we are, we find one another again. Even through death, you found me again, and I'll marry you again and again as many times the universe thinks is necessary."

"So is that a yes?", he asked hopefully, gazing into her eyes and brushing a snowy tendril of her hair from her forehead.

"Yes you dummy, that's a yes!" she cried. He took the ring from the box and placed it back on her finger. "It still fits!" she proclaimed.

As the snow continued to fall and dapple their hair, eyebrows and eyelashes with white snowflakes, Jane threw her arms around his neck and...


	27. Epilogue

"What? _What _Uncle Rogelio?!" two pairs of eyes gazed up at him incredulously. A nine- and ten-year-old sat cross-legged on the colourful rug in front of him and leaned forward as he carefully held open a dog-eared copy of their family treasure. The evening light flooded the room in which they sat, flowing in with the sound of the sea. The leaves of the palm trees outside flickered to-and-fro in the Puerto Rican breeze.

"No, you don't want to hear that bit. I'll just skip this section." their handsome uncle said, closing the book. "The end."

"No, we don't mind!" The girl pleaded, and looked over her shoulder to two more figures sitting listening intently behind them. "Bisa, what happened next? You know!"

Jane gazed over at her great grandchildren and squeezed Michael's hand, who sat beside her in a matching rocking chair. His distant look returned from somewhere in their story to meet Jane's crinkled but still bright eyes. He squeezed back. "Well, we kissed of course!" she recounted, "and of all the kisses that have ever been, this one was the most pure and the most passionate, leaving all of the others behind."

"The end." Rogelio finished, patting the book reverently. "Now, go wash your hands before dinner or your mother will tell us off!", he teased, chasing them away.

"Thank you for keeping our story alive, mi hijo," Jane said gratefully lifting her hand up to her grandson's face. "You told it so well."

"Let's get you both to dinner," he instructed, offering Jane his arm. "I've been told by Nina and Luis it's chicken and avocado arepas to start." At that, Michael slowly but eagerly lifted himself out of his chair and reached for his walking stick. "You know, you remind me so much of your great grandfather, Rogelio. I should tell you some more stories about him." The young Rogelio bent toward them, listening intently to their words as he accompanied their shuffled walk down the hall and finally out of sight. He was now the keeper of their story.


End file.
